


Stop That, No Wolf Stuff

by fructose



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Kinda, Kissing, M/M, PWP, Smut, Sort Of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 20:15:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13865214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fructose/pseuds/fructose
Summary: Derek grunted and looked away, knew he would come too quick if he saw Stiles with his fingers in his mouth, because it had happened before. Stiles, like some kind of porno-fantasy, sucking on his long fingers while looking Derek dead in the eye, before bringing them down and pressing them wet and filthy behind his balls, finding the place where Derek was fucking into him andrubbing. Derek had come so hard and so sudden that Stiles had laughed, then taunted him for a week afterwards.





	Stop That, No Wolf Stuff

He liked Stiles like this the best, open and wanting, quiet. The only thing Derek loved more than hearing Stiles run his mouth was hearing the desperate little noises he made when words escaped him. So Derek got Stiles desperate as frequently as he could, a rare self-indulgence that Derek justified with the knowledge that Stiles wanted it too.

And God, did he want it.

He had come to Derek’s that very evening, later than usual but no less twitchy and restless, something about his dad, something about a case, something about something that was really just an excuse for him to turn up at Derek’s door, knowing he would be leaving in a few hours a hell of a lot lighter.

Stiles had wanted to do it on the floor, on his knees. He hadn’t said as much but Derek knew by the way he moved that today was a day he wanted to be pushed around, to be put on the ground and held there. Derek had two fingers in him before either of them had even taken their clothes off, free hand on the back of Stiles’ neck, holding him still.

When they finally got their clothes off Stiles was dripping precome already, sopping and sticky inside his boxers. Derek had raised an eyebrow but Stiles held up his hands and shook his head. “It’s been a long week, man, it’s been a long week. Can we just-?” And Derek had nodded, manhandling Stiles onto his hands and knees before pulling his ass cheeks apart and leaning down to spit where he knew Stiles was already wet and ready.

“ _Fuck_ ing hell,” Stiles breathed, heart stuttering in his chest.

Derek let his cock slide in the mess for a moment, breathing out heavy at the dirty feel of his own spit between the two of them, before pushing inside, watching Stiles open up for him, taking him as prettily as he always did. Derek fucked him slowly at first, liking the way Stiles got fidgety when he made him wait.

“Derek, I swear-”

Derek let his head drop as he smiled and stopped moving, just to watch Stiles get agitated below him. He pulled out until he was barely in Stiles at all, looked down at his own cock and then along the white plain of Stiles’ back, his shoulder blades shifting as he dropped his head to the carpeted floor.

“What are you doing, man?” Stiles gritted out, turning his face and pressing his cheek into the carpet. “Why are you stopping?”

Stiles was already moving before Derek answered, pushing himself back with a grunt. Derek watched the thick inches of his cock disappear inside Stiles as he ground his hips backward, his back dipping in one filthy-slow wave.

“Wanted to see you do some of the work.”

“Fuck,” Stiles said, but there was something in the lilt of his voice that felt to Derek like there might be a smile underneath. Stiles pulled away then and started fucking back onto Derek’s cock in earnest, bracing his forearms on floor, his long fingers curled into fists. Derek knew Stiles wanted to get a hand on himself, had been trying to since they started, but Derek kept batting his hand away to make him wait. Stiles complained, grunted expletives churned out between gritted teeth, but Derek knew that’s how he liked it, knew that Stiles wanted it rough, wanted to be reprimanded, to be told what to do.

Derek watched him fucking back against him for a moment longer before reaching for Stiles’ cock, pulling his hips back flush with his own. Stiles made a noise Derek knew he would be embarrassed about later and tried to pull away, but Derek held him tight, one big hand gripping his hip, the other wrapped tight and unmoving around Stiles’ cock. Derek started to nudge up against him then, grinding against Stiles, breathing heavy as he marvelled at the wet, soft heat of him, bottoming out with each tiny thrust.

Stiles was trying to talk, but the hand around him and the cock pressing up into him made him stupid, and instead he just groaned, open-mouthed, into the carpet, bringing his own hand to his mouth and biting down on his fingers.

Derek grunted and looked away, knew he would come too quick if he saw Stiles with his fingers in his mouth, because it had happened before. Stiles, like some kind of porno-fantasy, sucking on his long fingers while looking Derek dead in the eye, before bringing them down and pressing them wet and filthy behind his balls, finding the place where Derek was fucking into him and _rubbing_. Derek had come so hard and so sudden that Stiles had laughed, then taunted him for a week afterwards, pressing his fingers to his lips when he knew only Derek was watching, licking from his knuckle to his fingertip as he pretended to be off daydreaming.

“Derek.” Stiles’ strained voice jolted him, pulled him back around so that he was looking down at Stiles. “God. Fuck. Please.” He was wrecked, mouth wet and open, cheeks flushed. Derek could feel him shuddering beneath him, desperate to move his hips but powerless to do so. Derek gave his cock one long pull and Stiles groaned long and low, his thighs shaking back against Derek’s own.

“Let, let me-” Stiles tried to reach back, tried to get a hand around himself, but Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles’ chest and started to pull him up and away from the carpet, so that Stiles had to reach out and steady himself. “Oh Derek, what the fuck, please just-”

Derek couldn’t help but chuckle, low and warm in Stiles’ ear. “Alright, alright,” he said as he tugged, pulling Stiles back until he was sat in Derek’s lap and his head lolled back against Derek’s shoulder. “Ok.”

As soon as he felt Stiles steady against him he let his hand wander, up Stiles’ sweat-slick chest to his throat, where he pressed his big hand as he started to fuck up into him. Stiles whined and turned his face to Derek’s, screwing his forehead hard against Derek’s temple, his lips so agonising close to Derek’s own. When Derek started to jack him with the hand still wrapped hot and sticky around his cock Stiles sobbed, sucking in air like a drowning man.

“I’m gonna come,” Stiles said on a breath. He always said, always told Derek, even though Derek could feel it shuddering through him, could hear it, could _smell_ it. His heart was pounding as Derek tightened his grip on Stiles’ throat, kept him still even as he fucked him, hand making obscene noises on Stiles’ cock.

When Stiles came he got so tight it almost hurt, and he squirmed against Derek so frantically he thought for a moment they might fall over. Instead Derek tipped them forward and fucked into him hard and fast, growling when he came, teeth against Stiles’ shoulder.

When he pulled out Stiles went boneless and dumb, chest against the floor, red ass up in the air. Derek looked down at the mess that he had made and wanted nothing more than to lean forward and press his lips against the red pucker of Stiles’ ass and suck and suck until Stiles came again, dry and painful-sweet. But he didn’t know how Stiles’ would react to something so base, so instead he leant forward and brushed his teeth against his ass cheek, biting so gently he surprised himself.

“Stop that,” Stiles said, his voice muffled by the carpet. “No wolf stuff.”

Derek snorted as he started to drag himself to his feet, landing an open palm on Stiles’ ass, the slap of his own flesh making Stiles groan absently. He heard Stiles shifting on the floor and felt him watching him as he moved towards the bathroom.

“So,” Stiles breathed, voice edging towards something less fucked-out. “I guess I’m gonna- I should get my stuff-”

“What?”

“I should get my stuff and er.”

Derek turned to look at Stiles, now sat on the floor, gesturing towards his long-abandoned trousers. Derek rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said with a frown. “Get in the damn bed.”

Stiles opened his mouth, looking put out, and said, “I gotta take a leak.”

“Fine.” Derek turned away before Stiles could see him smiling, keeping his voice stern. “Take a leak and then get in the damn bed.”

There was a pause, and then an exasperated, “Fine.”

Derek showered and Stiles took a leak, and afterwards they slid under the covers of the mattress on the floor without another word. Derek could hear Stiles’ heart beating frantically as he lay awkwardly beside him, flat on his back with his arms over the covers, like a cadaver waiting to be embalmed. Derek sighed and turned out the light, trying not to get too exasperated when Stiles turned to one side and then the other, bicycling his legs a little before turning to lie on his stomach. He huffed, still for a moment, and then shifted back onto his back, throwing an arm over his face and then turning onto his side.

“Jesus Christ, Stiles, for the love of God.” Derek scooted across the mattress and wrapped one big arm around Stiles’ middle, pulling him so that his back was flush to Derek’s chest, his own soft cock nudging up against Stiles’ bare ass. “Stop fucking squirming around.”

“I’m not,” Stiles started, voice annoyed, but faltered when Derek pressed his open mouth to the back of his neck, lips closing in something that was as close to a kiss as they had ever got. “I’m not squirming around,” Stiles said gently.

“You are.”

They were silent then for a long time, tense and still against one another. Derek could feel Stiles’ heart beating, fluttering every time Derek moved his lips against his neck, tap tap tapping when he drew his mouth over Stiles’ shoulder.

“Derek?” Stiles said eventually, whispering in the darkness.

“Mm.”

Stiles’ heart was pounding, Derek could feel it thundering where his palm was still pressed against Stiles’ chest. “I wanna kiss you,” he said at last.

The admission made Derek’s cock twitch, and he huffed out a hot breath against Stiles’ neck. “Ok,” he said, leaning up as Stiles shuffled round, looking up at him with those huge black eyes. “I wanna-” Derek said awkwardly. “I want that too.”

Stiles laughed, a confident little sound, and nodded. His eyes flicked to Derek’s mouth before he said, “Come on then.”

Their first kiss was a gentle press of closed lips, followed by Stiles’ relived sigh as he opened up to Derek, twisting around fully so that they were face-to-face. Derek licked into Stiles mouth and tried to ignore the soft press of Stiles’ cock against his thigh.

“You’re getting hard,” Stiles said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah,” Derek huffed out a laugh and lay back on the mattress, letting his hand drift to Stiles’ cheek, thumb somewhere near the corner of his red mouth. “This is good though, this is enough.”

Stiles nodded, eyes flicking over Derek’s face. “Yeah, this is a good.”


End file.
